


meet me in the afterglow

by bechloehuh, chloebeale (bechloehuh)



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Smut, and Taylor Swift, inspired by someone great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 18:23:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechloehuh/pseuds/bechloehuh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechloehuh/pseuds/chloebeale
Summary: Just a few days ago, she and Chloe were talking about going on vacation to Disneyworld and now here Beca is, alone in her kitchen on a Sunday evening, worried about liking her own girlfriend’s Instagram post.





	meet me in the afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> a lil angst and a lil smut. soft, fluffy smut bc apparently i am unable to write nsfw scenes without showing how much they’re in love. inspired by both ‘afterglow’ by taylor swift, and jenny and nate’s fight in someone great. unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. enjoy.

**af·ter·glow**  
/ˈaftərˌɡlō/  
_noun__  
_the color left in the sky after the sun has set **_or_** good feelings that remain after a successful or pleasurable experience.

* * *

She should be at the studio, putting the finishing touches on the latest single she’s been working on with Theo. They’ve been working on it for weeks; a funky, poppy type of love song by an up and coming artist that she has only met a couple of times, but seems nice.

Beca should be _ working._

She’s not supposed to be _ here,_ chasing Chloe down the street in the rain, trying to understand what the hell she did wrong to warrant her to storm out of the building and try to drunkenly make her way back home.

“Chloe,” she repeats for what feels like the tenth time since they exited the building, jogging behind her to try and catch up. “Chloe, wait up. What are you doing?”

_“Stop_ following me.”

It was roughly around their fourth drink of the night that things started to go downhill.

One second Beca was reading over a text from Theo asking her to come in at eight tomorrow; the next, Chloe was packing up her things and leaving, ignoring everything Beca was asking her. Voices quietened and heads turned towards them, and Beca’s never been one for causing a scene, especially in front of people they know—people they _ kind-of _ know—so she stayed calm and collected as she tried to understand what was going on.

“Chlo, slow down.”

She almost walks into the back of Chloe when she stops abruptly, but she manages to stop herself just in time. Despite her pleas for Chloe to stop and listen—to just slow down so they can talk this out—she finds herself stepping back when she notices how angry Chloe looks.

“Chloe—”

“One night. I just wanted _ one _ night with no— no distractions or work commitments. I just wanted you to meet my coworkers but you’re too _glued _ to that _stupid_ phone to give a shit.”

She thinks back to earlier in the night, when she got the email from Katherine about moving to L.A. next summer. Then there was the email from Peter asking about a possible collaboration with one of his clients. And of course, the text from Theo asking her to go into the studio early. Other than that, she can’t remember being on her phone all that much.

“I wasn’t even on it that—”

“Beca, every single time I looked at you, you were looking down.”

“I— It was work. It’s important.”

“And I’m not important?”

“Oh, _come_ on, that’s not—”

“No, all you care about is work lately. If you’re not ignoring me to talk to Theo, you’re ignoring me to make a—”

“Hey, no, that’s not fair and you know it. You know how much my job means to me.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. That’s _ always _ been the problem.”

“What do you want me to do, ignore my boss?”

“I just want you to _ care _about me!”

If Beca wasn’t so annoyed, angry, _ upset _ at Chloe—at everything—she would’ve flinched at the raise of her voice; at the angry tears forming in Chloe’s eyes as she waits for Beca’s response. She would’ve softened up, stepped forward, took Chloe’s hand in hers. She would’ve told her that she’s sorry, that she didn’t realize she was on her phone so much. She would’ve given Chloe whatever she so desperately wanted from her, because that's all that Beca has been trying to do—that's all she _wants_ to do.

But Beca _ is _ annoyed, angry, and upset at Chloe, so she bites her tongue and stays quiet.

“Whatever,” Chloe sighs, opening her purse up and pulling her phone out. Her tone is different than before; so placid and tired. She turns around and sets off walking again, her phone gripped in her hand, and Beca can’t help but automatically follow her. “I’m going home, we can—”

“No,” Beca interrupts, her voice shaky due to the anger boiling up inside of her. “No, come on, let's go back to the party. I’ll turn my phone off, ignore all my responsibilities and you can introduce me to the people you hate, does that sound good to you? I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Chloe.”

“That’s—”

“That’s what you want, right?” Beca interrupts. “You want me to be _ your _ version of perfect for the people in there who don’t give a _ shit _ about you.” 

Chloe stops and Beca can’t help but freeze as she comes to a halt again, her own impatience making her tongue loose, which she immediately hates herself for.

Chloe’s mouth parts in shock at her words, her jaw jutting out as a breathy sigh falls from her lips. “Now you’re just being an asshole.” 

_“I’m _ the asshole?”

“Yeah, you are.”

Beca’s laugh is breathy and full of malice, her anger refusing to subside. “You know what, you _ should _go home. You need a fucking nap.”

“Don’t do that,” Chloe turns and lifts her finger up to point at Beca. “I am a grown ass woman, I don’t need you telling me what I need. _ I _ know what I need, and I don’t need you.”

“Yeah, you never fucking do.”

“What is _that _supposed to mean?”

Beca’s never been the type of person to want more from a relationship. She’s never been the type to be jealous or controlling. The only thing she cares about is trust and love, and she and Chloe have so much of that—maybe too much of it—that she’s never had to worry about it before. She’s never fought with Chloe about one of them spending too much time away, or one of them flirting with somebody else. That’s just _ not _ who she and Chloe are. They’ve never had to fight about stuff like that, because it just doesn’t happen.

Lately though, Beca’s felt out of it. Off her rhythm. Maybe it was when Chloe got a new job at the vet or maybe it was long before then, but Beca feels herself wanting more, all the time. Maybe wanting more than Chloe could ever give her.

“Ever since you started this new job, all you care about is other people. You can tell me I care too much about work but you’re _ exactly _ the same, Chloe.”

Chloe laughs. “That’s—”

“You told me yourself you don’t even _ like _ your coworkers and now you’re— what— starting a fight with _ me _ because I looked at my fucking phone while you were faking your way into their good books?”

“Oh, _ fuck _ you.”

“No, fuck you!” Beca breathes, nostrils flaring. “I’m trying here— I’m trying _ so _ fucking hard but all you care about is— is what other people think of you, how you can be better for them, how you come across to every— literally that’s _ all _ you’ve _ ever _ cared about. Alice, Aubrey, Chicago, all of them! Why is it so important for me to like your coworkers when _ you _don’t even like them?”

She can’t pinpoint exactly _ when _ she started feeling this way, but she thinks maybe it was somewhere between their first date six months ago and last week, when she almost told Chloe she loved her.

She doesn’t want to think about the fact that she’s only saying this to hurt Chloe, before Chloe gets the chance to hurt her first.

It would explain why she can’t even look Chloe in the eye. She knows that she’s being an asshole—that what she’s saying is completely out of order—but she’s terrified, and she figures it’s better to come off angry than vulnerable.

“This isn’t working, Beca. I can’t… I— I can’t do it anymore.”

The seconds that pass before Chloe is stepping away from her and putting her phone up to her ear feels like an eternity.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Aubrey.”

Beca takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Chloe—”

“No, I can’t handle you when you’re like this and I want to go home.”

“It’s midnight, she’s probably—”

“Hey, Bree, did I wake you? Do you think you could come pick me up?” Chloe worries her lip as she keeps her gaze on the road in front of them, eyes following each car that passes. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’ll text you the address. Thanks.”

“Chloe.” 

Chloe sits down on the stoop as the rain starts to get heavier. If it was any other day, Beca would be grabbing Chloe’s hand and pulling her under some shelter. Chloe would be laughing as they huddle up together, taking her jacket off to cover both of their heads.

She’s always been good at that, Beca notes; taking care of her.

The rain doesn’t let up, and all Beca can do is stand in silence, rooted to the spot as she takes in the sight of Chloe; her body hunched over as she nervously plays with her phone, the way her hair sticks to her face and how her make-up is smudged under her eyes. Beca’s not sure whether that’s due to the rain or the angry tears she’d shed before.

The rain doesn’t stop and it’s almost tragically romantic.

“Chloe.” There’s a part of Beca that doesn’t blame her for ignoring her, but she still tries. “Can you listen to me?”

When Chloe doesn’t answer, Beca sighs.

She’s glad Chloe’s not looking at her because she can’t help the way her jaw clenches and her eyes roll. If she wasn’t so irritated, she’d be endeared at the fact that Chloe looks like a grumpy child, refusing to talk or listen. Instead of pushing more, she sits down beside Chloe, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasping together.

“You should go,” Chloe says, crossing her arms and hunching over. She’s shivering and Beca can see the goosebumps on her bare legs; she almost moves closer just to share some of her body heat but she figures now’s not really the best time for that.

“I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you here, Beca.”

“Tough shit,” she responds. It comes out quick and harsh, but her tone quickly softens as she avoids Chloe’s gaze on the side of her head. “I’ll go when I know you’re safe.”

She can feel Chloe looking at her, and she can bet anything that she has that kicked puppy expression on her face that she usually does after fights or when she’s upset. It’s usually endearing, but Beca can’t deal with it right now. Not when she still has so much anger inside of her.

Mostly at herself.

She mostly can’t look at Chloe because she feels like she’s about to start crying any minute, and she doesn’t want Chloe to see that side of her right now. She knows it’s dumb—knows that she’s been vulnerable, even _ weak,_ in front of Chloe before—but this seems different. This feels like it might be the end, and she doesn’t want her crying to be the last thing Chloe remembers her by.

Eventually, Aubrey’s car pulls up in front of them, and Chloe immediately stands up when she recognizes the car.

“Chloe,” Beca tries again, but she already knows it’s no use.

She fully expects Aubrey to get out of her car and start yelling at her, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t say a word. The worst part is that there’s no more yelling; no more _ nothing._

One second Chloe’s there, the next she’s gone.

It’s a scene that Beca’s seen play out in her head millions of times, but she never expected it to hurt as much as it does.

* * *

The aftermath of the event doesn’t set in until the next morning, when Beca remembers the stuff she said and how she wishes she could go back in time and take them all back.

The hurt look on Chloe’s face is at the forefront of her mind from the minute she wakes up, to the second she falls asleep, alone in her apartment for the first time in weeks.

She drafts up a million and one texts to Chloe but ultimately doesn’t have the courage to send any of them.

Chloe doesn’t call.

* * *

She’s standing in her kitchen, watching the sun set over the skyline, when her phone vibrates on the counter.

Despite the fact that she’s told herself numerous times to ignore any semblance of Chloe’s name on her phone—unless it’s Chloe calling her to talk things out—her curiosity gets the better of her and she clicks on the Instagram notification.

She’s not sure what she expected. Maybe she was hoping it’d be a picture of Chloe with somebody else; something to kick her while she’s down, to make her feel worse than she already does. Or maybe she was just hoping for something more than a picture of the very sun that she was just watching dip below the buildings across from her apartment, with a caption that’s _ so _ Chloe that she doesn’t realize she’s crying until a drop of water drips onto the screen.

She uses her thumb to wipe it off of the left side of the screen, accidentally clicking the heart underneath the photo.

“Shit,” she mutters, unliking the post as quickly as she can.

Her heart stutters in her chest for a second until she puts her phone down onto the counter and stares down at it, wondering why she’s here right now and not with Chloe.

Just a few days ago, she and Chloe were talking about going on vacation to Disneyworld and now here Beca is, alone in her kitchen on a Sunday evening, worried about liking her own girlfriend’s Instagram post.

It’s so stupid, she can’t help but laugh.

* * *

Her heart rate picks up the second she gets into her car and it doesn’t slow down until Chloe opens the door. 

The first thing Beca notices is that Chloe’s wearing the flannel that Beca’s pretty sure she left in Chloe’s apartment last week when they came home from a party, all teeth and claws as they drunkenly tried to navigate their way through the dark, and that she has her reading glasses on and a visible glisten in her eyes. There’s a song playing that Beca recognizes from the movie Chloe made her watch a couple of weeks ago; the Disney one about the elephant in the circus. The song had made Chloe cry, and when Beca asked her why, she told her that her mom used to sing it to her when she was younger. 

The sight of her girlfriend in front of her, looking so innocent—so sad and _ soft—_makes Beca breathe out a sigh, unable to comprehend how someone can look so beautiful while not even trying; how she can look better than anybody Beca has ever seen in her life; better than Beca thinks she deserves.

“What are you doing here?”

She opens her mouth to speak but frowns when she realizes that she doesn’t really have an answer. She’d picked her keys up and got in her car and drove almost catatonically until she ended up outside of Chloe’s building, and now here she is, awkwardly standing with her mouth agape and her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

“Um…”

Chloe’s hand falls from the door handle to come up to scratch her jaw, and Beca swallows nervously as Chloe waits for her to answer.

“Bec—”

“I just miss you, that's all.”

Beca doesn’t expect Chloe to jump into her arms and forgive her immediately, but the frown and the tilt of her head as she crosses her arms in front of her catches her a little off guard.

“I— sorry, I shouldn’t…” she pauses, eyes searching Chloe’s for help.

Her shoulders fall when she realizes that it’s not Chloe’s job to help her; not right now.

“I was a dick and I shouldn’t have said the things I said.” She nervously kicks the floor, eyes trained on the end of her boot as her hands slip into her jacket pockets. “I don’t know… I can’t tell you why I said it, I just…”

She hears Chloe huff impatiently and she closes her eyes as she senses the familiar tingling feeling in her nose and the back of her eyes. She looks up, blinking at the ceiling as her hands form fists in her pockets.

“I guess a part of me just… I don’t know, you were mad at me and a part of me wanted to be the bigger asshole because it’s— well, it’s easier to come across as— as _ mean _ than to be…”

She bites her lip.

“To be _what,_ Beca?”

“I’m not used to this. Being... vulnerable in front of people.” She clenches her jaw, looks down the hall and wonders if it would be easier to run.

If this was six months ago, maybe it would be.

“Did you know that I didn’t even cry when my Grandma died?” She looks at Chloe for the first time since she started talking, letting out a soft, nervous laugh as she pulls a hand out of her pocket to wipe the moisture under her eye. “She was sick for years and we— we used to be close, like _ really _ close when I was younger. She would randomly buy me gifts and take me for ice cream after school, and… I went off to college and I didn’t see her often but we talked every day, and—”

“Beca.”

Beca shakes her head and closes her eyes for a moment, aware that Chloe is interrupting her because her voice is starting to waver. When her eyes open, Chloe looks a lot closer. Beca’s not sure whether it’s her hopeful imagination or if Chloe actually stepped forward, but she doesn’t dare bring attention to it.

“She died in my junior year. I was home for Christmas break and one day my mom came into my room and she— she was crying so hard. Like… I’ve never seen anybody cry that hard before.” She sniffs. “I didn’t even need to ask, it’s like I… I just knew, ya know?”

Chloe nods in understanding, her own eyes glistening.

“I held my mom for like— for hours. For _ so _ long. And I don’t know why but I just couldn’t cry.”

Chloe’s lip trembles as she moves her glasses up to rest on her head, wiping the tears from her eyes with a sniffle that Beca would find cute, if the circumstances were different.

“I’ve always… I don’t know, for as long as I can remember, I haven’t been able to be… open. With everything, really. My feelings. _Everything._ You know, you’ve— you know me.”

Chloe nods.

Beca sighs.

“I think... I don’t know for sure but I think it was ever since my dad left. That night was the worst night of my life and I… I never realized it until now, but I think that’s the reason I don’t open up as easily as other people do. Not even to my own mom. Not even to _ you._ And I think… I was being an asshole because I’d rather you break up with me now than to get me to open up about my feelings and leave me further down the line when I inevitably fuck up even worse, because I _ know _ that it’ll be so much more painful.”

“Bec.”

She sniffles, trying to hold back the tears, but the soft tone of Chloe’s voice and the way she steps forward to take Beca’s arm causes Beca’s heart to clench.

“I’m not good at this stuff. I can’t just… talk about how I feel without getting angry at myself because I never know what to say, and then that— the anger, it projects onto other people and I hate that about myself and I think… I’m just scared that you’ll realize you’re way too good of a person to be with me and you’ll leave and—”

“I’m not leaving you, Bec.”

“You don’t know that. It’s always a possibility that you will and—”

“I won’t—”

“And there’s always that part of me that will know that I’m not good enough and I wish I could just,” she pauses momentarily to wipe her cheek with the back of her trembling hand. “I want— _God,_ I want to tell you how I feel so badly but it’s like there’s something just _ stopping _ me and I _hate_ it.”

“Beca, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay, you’re my—” she stops, unable to find the words. Her nostrils flare in anger, mostly at the fact that she can’t get it out, but also that she doesn’t deserve Chloe to be looking at her the way she is; to be rubbing her arm and looking at her like Beca _ hasn’t _ been a huge asshole to her. “I don’t want to… I can’t lose you.”

She chokes out a sob the second Chloe pulls her in. She revels in the familiarity of Chloe’s scent, of how it feels to be held by the woman she’s so quickly and freely fallen in love with. It terrifies her, to know that Chloe could leave her at any moment, leaving Beca with all this love that she won’t know where to put.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m so sorry Chloe, I didn’t—”

“I know.” Chloe kisses her forehead and her mouth lingers there for a moment, soft lips resting against her skin. “I’m sorry too,” she whispers.

Beca knows that there’s more she needs to say but when Chloe’s lips meet hers, she can’t think of anything but the sound of the door shutting, signalling that Chloe is letting her in—_forgiving _ her—and the feeling of Chloe’s hands touching her everywhere. They pull her closer by the waist, running up her spine to the back of her neck and coming around to cup her face. Her touches are frantic and desperate, like she can’t decide where she wants to put her hands, so she settles on _ everywhere._

Beca’s bottom lip trembles but Chloe kisses over it once, twice, enough times for Beca to start to forget why they ever fought in the first place. The only thing she knows is Chloe; Chloe pulling her close, Chloe’s nervous hands prying open the buttons of her shirt, Chloe’s fingertips dancing over her flushed skin, Chloe whispering “I missed you” against her cheek once their lips finally part.

There’s something about the way Chloe looks at her, with the remnants of the setting sun glaring onto her face, that has Beca’s breath hitching and her heart aching. She looks down at Beca with hooded eyes and flushed, pink cheeks, and there’s nothing Beca can think to say to her that’ll get across how beautiful she looks; how much she's in love with her.

She reaches up to hold Chloe’s face in her hands, the pads of her thumbs running over smooth skin. It’s a featherlight touch that causes Chloe to smile softly as she reaches up to cover one of Beca’s hands, her other hand pulling Beca closer by the waistband of her sweats.

Beca’s shirt is the first to be dropped carelessly onto the floor, with Chloe’s sweater and their bras following soon after. Beca takes a few seconds longer to take Chloe’s shorts and underwear off, stopping to press open mouthed kisses against her thighs and her hipbone. The sound of Chloe’s breath hitching makes her smile, before she stands up to pull Chloe’s face to hers again.

The way in which they fall into bed together is practically second nature, like they’ve rehearsed it over and over. In all honesty, they kind of have. Beca’s always the one to fall against the sheets first, with Chloe climbing on top of her and hovering above her, watching her for a few drawn out seconds before leaning down to press a million kisses to her lips.

Beca loves how easy it is to fall back into the kind of casual intimacy that they’ve built up over the past few months. The kind that has her trying to stifle her whimpers as Chloe peppers kisses down her neck. The feeling of Chloe’s skin against her own has her back arching further into her, silently begging to be closer. She knows her quiet moans are starting to sound more desperate the longer Chloe goes without touching her, but she can’t help it, and she can’t really find it in herself to care.

Her fingers tangle in Chloe’s hair as kind hands slowly slide down her stomach, delicate fingers brushing over her center. She grinds her hips upwards against Chloe’s hand but Beca knows that Chloe wants to take her time, so she doesn’t push.

She can’t help but breathe out her name though, desperate and dazed, hoping that it’ll spur her on. Chloe’s breath huffs across her skin as her fingers dip in between her legs, and Beca gasps at the feeling.

“God, Beca.” She uses the tip of her middle finger to push through Beca’s wetness as Beca’s hands rake up Chloe’s back. “You’re—”

“I know,” she breathes out. _“Please.”_

When Chloe spreads her slick over her already swollen clit, she can’t stop herself from breathing out a soft moan. Her eyes flutter closed and she feels herself throbbing as Chloe starts to circle gently. She presses a little harder, gliding through her entrance a few times; only for a few seconds before she stops.

Beca groans, opening her eyes to see Chloe looking down at her, the fingers that were just inside her are now slipping past Chloe’s lips and she’s slowly flicking her tongue out to taste them. The sight has Beca slack-jawed, her mouth falling open with a soft whimper.

“Chloe,” she rasps. Chloe removes her fingers, resting them on Beca’s breast as she leans in with a smile. Their noses brush and Beca’s eyes close as she waits for Chloe’s lips to touch hers.

Instead, she presses a kiss to the end of Beca’s nose. 

It’s so loving—so _ Chloe—_that Beca can’t fight the tears that form in her eyes as she whimpers impatiently.

She’s never felt this kind of _ need _ before. Not with Chloe and not with anybody. It’s a new feeling that has her wondering if it will always be like this; if there’ll ever be a time where she won’t need Chloe as much as she does right now.

She can’t really dwell on that though, because Chloe’s hand is in between her legs again. This time, she’s more giving. This time, her fingers rub expertly at Beca’s clit as they breathe each other in. Beca’s hands come up to grip the pillow she’s lying against as Chloe rocks into her, pressing her mouth against her cheek and whispering how beautiful she is, how _ good _ she is.

“Chloe, I—” she’s cut off by her own loud moan when Chloe slides two fingers inside of her. Her hands grip the pillow harder as she arches her back, her brows furrowing and her cheeks flushing. She looks at Chloe, the way her lips are kiss-swollen and her eyes are wide as she stares back.

“Go slow,” Beca rasps, releasing the pillow to cup Chloe’s face. “I don’t want to… _fuck.”_

Chloe smiles. “You don’t want to fuck?”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as Chloe’s pace quickens.

“I don’t want to— to c— yet, I… _Oh_ my God.”

The feeling of Chloe’s thumb on her clit makes her shiver and pulse and she can feel that familiar feeling of being almost there; being a few strokes—a few thrusts—away from coming apart in Chloe’s arms.

“We have all night,” Chloe says, her hushed tone making her sound almost angelic. “We have all the time in the world.”

The vulnerability of being laid out in front of Chloe, naked and writhing and desperate, causes her heart to clench. She doesn’t notice the tear slipping down into her hairline or the way her lip quivers. All she can see is Chloe above her, watching her every movement, from the way her hips grind up into her hand to the way her neck stretches back against the pillow.

Chloe’s lips touch her neck and Beca’s hands immediately wrap around her shoulders, holding her close as Chloe pulls her fingers out to rub tight circles against her clit.

“Chloe,” she moans. “Fuck, I…”

“I’ve got you,” Chloe breathes.

“I love you.” Her grip in Chloe’s hair tightens, pressing Chloe’s face against her neck as she pushes her hips up against Chloe’s hand, her legs stretching out against the sheets. Chloe’s breath against her neck is hot and damp and ragged, and Beca’s fingers tremble as she tries to keep Chloe against her.

Ultimately she's too weak and Chloe wins.

Chloe pulls back, fingers working Beca up so easily; so quick that Beca’s not sure how much longer she can last. It’s only been a few minutes and she already feels so dishevelled; so thoroughly taken care of.

Chloe’s eyes are wide and teary, so full of an emotion that Beca’s never seen before. She looks almost heavenly, leaning over Beca with the orange light from the streetlamp outside glowing around her. 

“Chloe—”

“I love you too.”

Her back arches and she cries out, hands gripping Chloe’s shoulders as she comes around her fingers. Chloe’s lips capture hers, and Beca is barely able to return the kiss as she rides out her orgasm. She pulses around Chloe’s fingers, gripping them tightly before Chloe slowly pulls out and runs her fingers down to Beca’s soaked inner thighs.

Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath she takes and Chloe waits patiently, her fingers dancing over her until Beca finally manages to catch her breath.

Chloe smiles when she looks at her, nervously pulling her lip in between her teeth.

“You’re—”

“I love you,” Chloe interrupts. Beca can tell she’s excited with the way her eyes are lit up and her lip quivers when she smiles. “I’ve been wanting to say that for so, _ so _ long.”

Beca huffs, still breathless. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

Beca laughs. “Chloe, you absolutely _ terrify _ me.” She watches in awe as Chloe smiles down at her, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “But,” her breath hitches as Chloe kisses her cheek before pulling back at the sound of Beca's voice. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. I hope you know that.”

“Forever?”

It’s in the innocent, childish way Chloe asks her, that has Beca wondering why she was ever stupid enough to try and push Chloe away in the first place. It’s in the innocent, childish way Chloe asks her that has Beca falling in love with Chloe that much more.

She nods with a smile that hurts her cheeks, pulling Chloe’s face down to hers, meeting her halfway with gentle, featherlight kisses.

She knows that there’s more she needs to say but she’s pretty sure, since they have forever, it can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you enjoy my writing, please follow me on [tumblr](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com/)


End file.
